What Dreams May Come
by stripedcow
Summary: AU Following Operation Mongoose. They say that our ability to separate what is real from what is not real is our greatest defense. Zelena has cast an evil curse that brings Emma to a place she never thought she'd be again, and although she suffers some indescribable horrors, sometimes the hardest part isn't breaking the curse, but surviving the aftermath. Trigger warnings in A/N
1. Prologue

**A/N: Uh... hi guys *waves awkwardly* If you're getting some deja vu that means you were one of 100 readers who read this story originally! Yay! If not, ignore this message. So, this is actually a repost of a story I started publishing about two years ago. A few days after I started writing this story, I had to change my lifestyle completely. Long story short, I went from a gallery artist to an investment banker. When I moved and changed jobs, it killed all the creativity in me and completely destroyed the artist that I was before. Recently, I quit my crappy banking job and became a museum curator (dream come true!) and I decided to come back to this story. It's bigger, better, proofread, and better than ever :)**

 **Prologue**

Zelena had always been driven by two things and two things only: passion and revenge. Her entire existence had been marked by hatred and regret, and like a birthmark, she took it with her everywhere she went. All of those misplaced searches for acceptance by someone, anyone became a type of misguided passion that fueled the anger, rage, and envy swirling within her. As the years went by any sense of compassion slowly dissolved into cynicism, eventually evolving into something darker, more sinister. She wanted nothing more than to have everyone else feel what she has been forced to live with her whole life. This desire slowly culminating until it reached a point where she wasn't simply craving it, she fed off it. She was angry at Cora for her selfishness, angry at Regina for getting everything she always wanted but could never have, angry at Rumplestiltskin for deceiving her, but most of all she was angry at herself for allowing herself to fall victim to all of this in the first place. Not even she could articulate when this anger became a type of madness, but nonetheless here she was, burning with an ineffable obsession with vengeance and destruction.

She looked up at the cracked mirror hanging above her leaky sink.

"Bloody pathetic," she berated to no one in particular.

She let herself be bested by a one handed pirate, but worse, she let herself be bested by Regina. Not this time. This time she knew exactly what she needed to do. She slowly traced the edge of the sink, the aged porcelain smooth under her fingers, before plugging the drain and cranking up the hot water. The steam rose and obscured the woman staring back at her in the mirror, leaving nothing more than a distorted mess of dull colors to bear witness to her pending maleficence. Grabbing the satchel hanging from the side of the bathtub, she sprinkled a few pinches of what looked to be a multicolored herb into the makeshift cauldron. She quickly tossed in a few more ingredients before taking a step back to admire the bubbling mess inside the nearly overflowing sink.

"This was much more… climactic when I had a castle," she mused to no one in particular, but with desperate times comes desperate measures, and this could most certainly be considered an ultimate act of desperation.

While her own magic had been stripped by her Rumple and her sister, she had found a way to tap into the ancient art of potions and incantations. Conjuring spells were never her strong suit, but she knew this one like the back of her hand. More than once she had depended on his magic to assist with her more complicated schemes. She was wary of him at first, unsure which side he truly belonged to. Perhaps it was this ambiguity that made him so powerful in the first place. Regardless, he had always been a dependable ally. Even if he didn't want to help her for the sake of helping her, he could never say no to the prospect of dream manipulation. If all went to plan, there was no way Regina would be able to escape. They said that it is in dreams where one finds strength. The lesser known second half to that is it is also in dreams where one's greatest vulnerabilities are revealed.

Suddenly, the room around her began to shake. The sharp clink of the bottles and vials sitting along the tub shattering the previously peaceful silence. A low rumble erupted from below the ground as a dark mist inundated the room. She felt her excitement rise as the telltale purple haze began to settle around her. The temperature of the room dropped dramatically as the light bulbs popped one by one, transforming the room into a cold, dark dungeon. A flash of light brought in a moment of life before the smoke settled quickly, revealing at first glance, what seemed to be some odd mix between an elf and an imp. He was small in size, but his face lacked the geniality that elves so often carried. His initial look of confusion morphed into a knowing smile that accentuated the cracks in his wrinkled face.

"My my… if it isn't… Zelena, is it?" The impish creature stretched carefully, taking a precarious step forward, his movements slow and deliberate. "Why, I haven't seen you since your little stunt down in the poppy fields."

He hopped experimentally on one foot then the other, testing his strength and balance, before letting out a slightly crazed laugh and taking a few careful steps toward her.

"Oh, we had such fun that day, didn't we?" The insane glint in his eye became more pronounced when paired with his cheshire smile. "How can I be of service?"

"I thought you'd never ask." For the first time since she had been locked away in the sleepy little town in the middle of Maine, Zelena smiled. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place. The Sandman had been the last piece of the puzzle. "Remember Dorothy?"

"Who could forget?" A knowing grin spread across his face as he swung his sack of sand around whimsically.

"Wonderful"


	2. Oh Mr Sandman, Bring Me a Dream

**A/N: Enjoy :) I'll be using this space for trigger warnings later on so keep on the look out of certain topics bother you, and let me know what you think in the reviews :)**

 **Chapter 1: Oh Mr. Sandman, Bring Me a Dream**

On the other side of town, all of the citizens of Storybrooke had congregated at Granny's for a celebration. Another day, another curse broken, which meant another extravagant diner dinner party. Emma leaned against the counter as she watched the scene before her. David, no, Dad she corrected, was giving Hook a lesson on how to work the jukebox while her mom and baby Neal watched Henry busy himself with some writing on the counter. Laughing to herself as Hook struggled with the buttons, she found it difficult to keep her eyes off her pirate, especially after she almost love him for good.

Hearing his voice again was like being pulled out of a nightmare by the warmth of the morning sun, a full body experience that jerked her away from the depths of darkness. Finally feeling his body against hers was the homecoming she had been longing for the moment she had found herself chained to the dungeon floor. In that moment she couldn't help but notice the red glow of the machine ensconcing him in an almost enchanting hue. He truly was magical.

"Emma! Hey Swan! Come over here and pick a song." Hook waved her over with his silver appendage with a giddy grin on his face, obviously pleased that he figured out the modern day contraption. Laughing to herself, she made her way over, stopping to place a kiss on Henry's head. "Go have some fun kid. The book can wait for a few hours." Henry looked up and smiled before hopping off the stool and running over to Robin.

"Hey."

Robin was startled by the voice behind him. Setting down his drink, he looked behind him to find Henry staring back at him with such fierceness that he would be slightly worried had the serious glint in his eye not been so adorable.

The young man cleared his throat. "There are a few things you should know before you start dating my mom."

Robin let Henry lead him into an empty booth and waited attentively. Henry cleared his throat before starting. "I don't know if you know this, but things haven't been easy for my mom lately. If you want to be wit her, you have to be serious. No messing around. No funny business."

"Of course, you have my wor-" Henry held up a hand to stop him from making any premmature promises.

"I wasn't finished yet. You have to protect her and help her believe in true love again. Like, really believe in it. Be there for her because I won't always be around for her to love." Henry waited for a response. After a few seconds of awkward staring on both fronts Henry gestured to Robin. "Okay, I'm done. You can speak now."

"Well, my boy, you have every word that I intend to cherish and love your mother. She means the world to me and I can't imagine a day without her."

"Good, I'm glad we have that settled. Now, if I have some business to attend to," Henry finished as he grabbed his book and slid out of the booth.

"Not to worry there Robin. I got the same speech from Henry a few weeks ago." Hook gave him a hearty pat on the back before breaking out into laughter. "Bloody protective that boy is. Consider yourself lucky, I have him and David over there to deal with." Both men chuckled as they turned back to the party. Robin strolled over to the counter and took his station next to Regina. In the middle of a heated discussion with Ruby and Belle, she didn't even notice he was standing there until the two others began shooting playful smiles at each other.

"Oh, hey! I thought you were talking with Henry. What did you say to corrupt my poor boy?"

"Me?" Robin feigned offense. "Nothing! He actually did most of the talking." Regina raised an eyebrow. "Let's just say we had a productive conversation." He slung a lazy arm around her shoulder. "What say you the two of us go out for a little midnight stroll. I'm sure these lovely ladies can continue weighing the pros and cons of Edward Rochester and Edward Cullen without you."

"We weren't-" Regina turned a shade of bright red. As of recently, Belle had been the only person in town who knew of her secret obsession with the Twilight series.

"Sure you weren't. Team Edward! Am I right ladies?" Robin joked. Ruby tried to look annoyed, but she couldn't hide the smile on her face. "We'll see you ladies later."

Hook heard the bell above the door ring as Robin and Regina walked down the main street of Storybrooke. He shot Robin a knowing grin and a quick nod before returning his attention to the beautiful blonde across the room. For the first time in two centuries, he felt completely and utterly at peace. He watched as she glided from table to table. Even in simple moments like this she was graceful. He concluded that in another life she must have been a dancer or, dare he say it, a princess. She settled in between her mother and father and he couldn't help but notice the sparkle in her eyes as the three of them chattered away. He couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but every once in a while someone would say something that would cause her to burst into animated laughter. Hook smiled to himself. His Swan had finally began tearing down the walls that surrounded her heart and accepting Storybrooke as her new, admittedly dysfunctional family. In this moment he was reminded of the time he watched her have dinner with her family through the window, except this time he wasn't looking from the outside in. Except this time, he was standing right beside her.

"Sounds like I'm missing all the fun" Hook feigned a pout as he settled on the other side of the booth.

"Not at all. I was just recounting your latest adventure with the 'jukermagigger,'" David joked. "Emma especially enjoyed the part where you accidentally put 'I Want Candy' on repeat."

"I've been told it's a classic." He shot Snow a wink, which she returned with an enthusiastic two thumbs up.

Even though Emma was laughing at the story, the look was not one of even light mockery. She always had a mischievous glint in her eyes when she smiled, but now her whole being seemed to glow with admiration and, perhaps, even love. The look she gave him was the exact same look she gave him in the loft earlier that day- giddy, but nervous, sure, yet unsure at the same time. He searched again for some sort of clue to what it was she was thinking and although her green eyes continued to sparkle brightly, something dark still lingered right below the surface. Reaching out his good hand across the table he gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"Come on Swan, let's dance." Snow White was already scrambling to let Emma out of the booth.

Emma hesitated. "You hate dancing."

"But you don't. And I did promise you I'd teach you a few new waltz steps just in case we end up back in time again." Hook flashed her another one of his playful smiles before giving her another firm tug.

"Hey! That's my job!" David's indignant protest was left unheard as Emma and Hook slid onto the dancefloor.

"David! Just let them have their fun. Besides, someone has to dance with me." Snow pulled at David's arm. David shot Hook one more look before heading over to the center of the diner with Snow. Even though his relationship with the pirate had improved drastically over the last few months, he still felt a little protective of his first child. Snow had once suggested that he was overcompensating a bit for all their missed years, but he chalked it up to just being a new father because even though Emma had just celebrated her 29th birthday, fatherhood was still novel to him.

"Come on love. It'll be fun. I'll even dip you."

"Well, how can I resist that?" Killian will never get enough of that smile.

"You can't. That's the point." Banter between the two of them would never get old. Laughing, she grabbed his outstretched hand.

To any outside observer the makeshift dance floor of Granny's Diner was a mess. While the Charmings twirled around with a set of graceful spins and lifts, Ruby and Belle were doing a crazy little jig that involved as much hair as far as possible. Emma and Killian tentatively tried to waltz before breaking into their own, unique only to them, dance that involved some ridiculous looking forward hip thrusts on Killian's end. On the other side of them Henry and Victor did some mix between the Electric Slide and the Macarena. Even though everyone was doing their own made up dance moves to atrocious 80's music blaring from the aging jukebox in the corner, there was a sense of merriment that the the town had never seen before. Today, the Dark One was on hold.

All of a sudden the lights flickered before everything went dark. A bright explosion colored the sky. Everyone stopped, looking at one another for an explanation. Moments later, Robin burst through the door.

"Something… something's happening… I… Regina…God she's… " Attempting to catch his breath, he could do nothing but gesture desperately to the commotion outside.

Emma and Killian, followed closely by Snow, David, and Henry, ran out the door and rounded the corner sharply. By the time Robin caught up the temperature of the air around them dropped immediately and everyone was suddenly overcome with an indescribable sluggishness. A few blocks in, Emma was the only person who was still running. By the time she reached the intersection that Robin had shouted at her from behind, she was not only freezing but she also found that she couldn't keep her eyes open. Expecting to face Gold, she was shocked to find that the source of the dark smoke surrounding Regina was none other than Zelena.

"Why, if it isn't the Savior" the word "savior" rolled off Zelena's tongue like the name of some deadly disease and hung in the stale air.

Regina was trapped in a whirlwind of what looked like black ropes swinging wildly in every direction. As Emma got closer, she was knocked out of the way by an errant strand.

"Get out of here Emma. I can handle this." Regina's display of determination was undermined by the fear and exhaustion in her voice.

"No! You worked too hard to find your happiness. I can't let this destroy you." Emma ran forward again. Somewhere behind her she heard David shouting her name, urging her to get back. They must have finally caught up.

Emma saw the life slowly draining out of Regina's body. She was running out of time. By now Killian was pulling her away, dragging her back to safety.

"The darkness just needs somewhere else to go. I have an idea!" Emma shouted over the cacophony of sounds.

"No, don't do this." Hook's voice cut through the chaotic whirlwind. Although frantic, it was almost melodic.

"I have to." Before he could argue back she brought her hands up cradling his face in her hands. "I love you." She quickly turned to the growing mass of tangled threads and welcomed the sinister force, allowing it to course through her body.

Zelena let out a scream in frustration as she attempted to divert the strands back towards Regina.

"Do something!" She turned to the Sandman demanding his assistance.

"Ahh. That's the thing about nightmares, my dear Zelana. They follow those who have the most to fear. They seek those that are the most vulnerable."

Zelana thought carefully for a moment. This wasn't all bad. In fact, this may even be the better alternative. Had the cloud of nightmare taken Regina as its victim, it would only drive Regina to her eventual downfall. But now… now she had the Savior. This would not only take down the blasted pirate, but it would also destroy the one thing that was keeping the whole godforsaken town alive: hope. With a flick of a wrist Regina was released completely.

This time, her plan would not backfire and Storybrooke will become nothing more than another magically barren wasteland doomed to suffer just as she has suffered her whole life.

Zelana disappeared just as Emma fell to the ground and Hook's desperate cries echoed through the now silent town.

"SWAN!"


	3. Welcome to Storybrook

**A/N: This is the last of the chapters I had written originally :) Stay tuned for actual updates and more intrigue. Think of this as a crossover between Once Upon a Time and Orange is the New Black (just in time for Season 5!)**

 **Chapter 2: Welcome to Storybrooke**

"Swan. Swan! SWAN! YO SWAN!"

Emma blinked a few times and tried to focus. The final remnants of the black haze that engulfed her moments earlier were beginning to fade as the blurred edges of her new surrounding began to take shape. She noticed the smell first. The strange mixture of damp walls, mildew, urine, and sweat, was something she was all too familiar with. Her fears were confirmed when she slowly opened her eyes, coming face to face with a scene she had returned to only in nightmares. She suddenly felt claustrophobic, the rusting bars and crumbling walls closing around her. Prison. As a sheriff and bail bondsmen she had seen plenty of jail cells following her release, but this is the first time in a long time that she has felt the oppressive pall of hopelessness, the unshakeable feeling of being trapped. The last thing she remembered was dancing in Granny's diner with Killian. How did she end up here?

"Fuck, that must have been some session Swan." The sharp voice jerked her out of her thoughts just before she descended into a full panic attack. "Don't listen to Jones and his psych mumbo jumbo. He's always saying shit like 'anger is just a manifestation of your feelings of inadequacy.' No bitch, my anger is a manifestation of how goddamn angry I am. I'm angry because my sister sold me out to the cops and now I have to sleep on a moldy mattress, not to mention that fucker Tink from Cell Block B keepy buying the last bag of gummy worms from commissary just to mess with me. Fuck him Emma, don't let him tell you how to feel. You don't need to take advice from someone who married the biggest cunt in the universe anyway."

That voice. There was something oddly familiar about it. It was ragged, as if it were coming from a person who had suffered greatly at the hands life's misfortunes, but at the same time it was also melodic. Whatever it was, it was like a lifeboat, and she clung to it desperately, hoping that it would bring her the answers she needed.

"Elsa?" Although her normal blue silky ballgown had been replaced with a grey jumpsuit, there was no doubt that it was her. Even in a prison jumpsuit, Elsa still managed to look effortlessly flawless. Her skin retained its youthful glow while her golden locks, albeit a bit disheveled, framed her face to give her the perfect mix of beauty and grace. Her eyes were harsher, darker, but still glowed a deep cerulean. Emma felt her shoulders relax upon seeing her. If Elsa was there, then this whole thing must be a curse, and every curse could be broken. She wasn't actually in prison. She wasn't really trapped again.

But wait, Elsa wasn't in Storybrooke. She was in Arendelle. Can there be a curse that crosses realms?

"Yo, girl, are you feeling okay? You look like shit. Nolan hasn't been screwing with you again, has he?" Elsa threw her magazine on the other side of the bed and raced over to take a closer look. Her piercing blue eyes searched frantically for something in Emma's eyes before letting out a sigh of relief. "Well, at least you're not using. Belle would murder you. You know how she feels about that shit."

"Belle?" The question slipped out before Emma could catch herself. The fact that Belle was here confirmed two things. This had to be a curse and there was no way Rumplestiltskin was in on it.

"Jesus Swan. Did Jones, like, drug you or something?" Elsa's brows furrowed as she cocked her head to one side. She made a mental note to run over to the library to find Belle after her shift as was over.

Emma made a quick inventory in her head. Nolan. David was definitely here. Jones. That must be Killian. Belle, Elsa, and maybe Tinkerbell. Sprinting over to the bars and craning her neck, Emma tried desperately to catch a glimpse at the inmates in the other cells. She was about to call out before she felt Elsa grab her from behind and drag her away from the cell door.

"What are you doing Swan? Are you trying to get us shanked after dinner today? Lay low dammit." Elsa was worried. They were in enough hot water for the stunt they pulled on the green yesterday, and the last thing they needed was to draw more attention to themselves. It wasn't easy finding friends in a shithole like Storybrooke and she wasn't about to lose one of her only ones to solitary or to those bitches down in B block because of some bad session with the resident shrink.

"Can you calm the fuck down?" Elsa jerked Emma over to the bottom bunk of the bed across from the one she had been sitting on. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Elsa?" It came out more as a question than a statement. Emma's head was swimming as she struggled to take a deep breath. It felt as if she had the wind knocked out of her. "If I ask you a few questions will you promise not to freak out or think I'm crazy?"

"Damnit Swan, I already think you're going off the deep end." The nervous, almost fearful expression on her friend's face caused whatever anger or frustration she had been previously feeling to dissipate. "Okay okay okay. I promise. What's up?" At this point Elsa would agree to share a bunk with Tamara if it helped get to the bottom of what was happening.

"What happened to Storybrooke?"

"What do you mean what happened? Are you trying to get like, existential or something? Look around Swan. It's the same shitstorm it's always been. Bitches in B trying to kill us over magazines and toothpaste, Nolan trying to kill us because his wife sucks, Neal trying to fuck you because you know, it's Neal and sexual harassment is like his thing or whatever. " Elsa slouched back into her bed. "Welcome to Storybrooke Women's Penitentiary baby, population you, me, Belle, and 400 of our closest friends. And by friends, I most certainly mean sociopaths. We're like Orange is the New Black minus the cool lesbians and sisterhood. Well, except for you, me, and Belle of course."

"What?"

"I forgot. You like, hate television. You know… all women's prison, except everyone here sucks and the crazies have easier access to homemade weapons. Luckily for us, we have the creepy guards, bitchy warden, and sexual harassment part down pretty solid." Elsa finished sarcastically.

 _Attention Cell Block A, mandatory group counseling starts in five minutes. Those who are tardy or truant will face the appropriate consequences. Attention Cell Block A, mandatory group counseling-_

"Oh fuck. I completely forgot Milah's coming today to 'teach us about coping.' Lord give me strength. I cannot be sentenced to an additional 30 years for murder." Elsa said only half jokingly. "Although, I think if I did kill Milah, I would be doing the world a huge service."

"Milah?" How can a curse possibly merge different realms and bring someone back from the dead?

"Uh, yeah... Milah? Remember her? Bitch who almost got you sent to solitary a month ago because she decided she didn't like how you looked at her husband? She is fifty shades of fucked up if you know what I'm saying. Who's insecure enough to come visit her husband at work every other day under the guise of a 'group counselor'? He's messed up too, always displaying that ridiculous tattoo of her name as if he's afraid one of us will fall in love with him during session or something. As fucking if. They should just get a rings like normal people. Christ." Elsa ranted as she pulled her hair in messy bun and grabbed her notebook. "Come on Swan, can't be late. Milah might make us talk about our 'feeeeeelings.'"

Emma, still dazed and confused, stood slowly, her head swimming with questions. Still unsteady on her feet

"Let's go Swan!" Elsa was already half way down the hall. She gathered up what she assumed were her supplies before noticing she didn't have any writing instruments.

Elsa must have sensed what she thinking. "Agh, Swan. Don't you remember? We got pens and pencils taken away after Ruby Red went balls to the walls crazy and tried to stab Ariel over the new Cosmo magazine. They'll give us those stupid felt tip markers once we get there."

As she followed closely behind Elsa, Emma tried to compartmentalize and make sense of what was happening. She reasoned that like the curse she just returned from, she must have been sent to some alternate reality, but who sent her here? Why? If Belle was here too, it couldn't have been the work of Rumpelstiltskin, but who else was powerful enough to not only alter reality, but also combine realms and resurrect the dead? She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice the guard in front of her.

"Watch your step inmate." The harsh voice pulled her out of her musings.

"David?" It came out as a strangled whisper.

"The fuck did you address me as?" His movements were quick. Before she could react he gripped onto her collar firmly and pinned her against a wall.

"Your name asshole. What's your malfunction Nolan? You want the Warden to hear about this?" Elsa stood defiantly by her friend. "From what I've heard you're in hot water so move off. We're just trying to go to mandated group."

"You better watch your step Arendelle. Don't think I don't know what you got up to last week."

Emma trembled under David's piercing glare. It was worse than looking at evil Charming from the previous curse. There was no trace of her father, just a hollowness and sense of pure destruction, but some piece of her knew that cowering in a corner is not what this world Emma would do. Puffing up her chest as much as she could manage she pushed back slightly before straightening her shoulders and shoving both of them off the wall.

"Seriously Nolan, get a life." Emma wasn't sure where this boldness was coming from. "Don't you have someone else to harass or am I your special project?" Elsa smirked smugly before grabbing onto Emma's arm and dragging her out of David's reach.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have some 'spiritual healing' to attend to. Can't be late or Jones' beautiful and gracious wife will be oh so disappointed." The words beautiful and gracious were stretched out just enough to convey the fact that Elsa thought just the opposite.

The two girls weaved through a maze of corridors before stopping in front of what looked like a gymnasium. Turns out group was held in what was supposedly the prison's non denominational multifaith center/auditorium. A dilapidated cross was haphazardly covered by a ripped up tarp while the pulpit was adorned with a variety of random pieces of religious paraphernalia to hide the fact that once upon a time this was most certainly a chapel. Emma took the seat closest to the window. Glancing out the hazed over pane, she saw nothing but a grey fog.

"Does it always look like that outside?" Emma asked. Maybe this was an effect of the curse. Perhaps it only exists in the confines of the building. She grew excited at the prospect of finding a way out.

"Like what?"

"Like… foggy."

Elsa glanced over her shoulder. "Emma, it's sunny outside."

"No, it's-" Suddenly, a basketball court surrounded by dying grass appeared in front of her. In a way it reminded her of her elementary school days. There were groups of girls sitting under a large oak tree flipping eagerly though a magazine while another played a game of pickup basketball. Without the grey and orange jumpsuits, it almost looked like a summer camp of sorts. Emma furrowed her brows in confusion, but before she could comment she saw a flash of red pass in front of her.

"Running late again, Belle?"

"Agh. My life. Bitches never put the books in the right order. Am I the only one here who knows what the Dewey Decimal system is?"

"Yes, you fucking nerd."

"Whatever. Snow Queen. Don't play dumb. You graduated from Wellesley."

"Ha. Barely."

"Good morning ladies!" A sanguine voice interrupted their banter. Emma looked up to see a tall brunette stride into the room. Milah. She was everything Emma imagined her to be. Her eyes were clouded in the same seductive mystery that Hook's were when they first met, and while there was no denying she was hauntingly beautiful, there was also something jarring about how she carried herself.

"So sorry I'm late. I had some business to attend to in a different wing." Milah sat at the chair opposite of Emma.

"Wasn't aware that business and fucking were synonymous." Belle smirked as a few of the others laughed.

"Ah… yes! Everyday we drift further from God's light" Elsa quipped sarcastically. "The Lord hides in heaven from his evil creations." Elsa mocked as she crossed herself dramatically. Milah looked at the crowd of snickering women unamused.

"Elsa, let's explore why you always feel the need to be the center of attention." Gone was the initial sweetness in Milah's tone.

"Because I'm the biggest, baddest bitch up in this joint, and I deserve it," she answered with a straight face almost immediately. Even Emma had to crack a smile at her bold humor.

"That's a strike, Elsa. You are impeding other people's learning and healing."

"Oh, well, fuck me then. Let me not to your bullshit admit impediments. By all means, continue with your 'healing.'"

"Ohhhh, ten points to Elsa for the Shakespeare reference." Belle shot her a quick low five under the chair. "Oh, my bad. Mixing metaphors. But you must admit Milah, Harry Potter is much cooler than baseball."

"It's Mrs. Jones." Milah shot back.

"Oh, we believe you. Don't worry." Belle gave her an overly enthusiastic thumbs up and dramatic wink.

"That's it. You three troublemakers all get a strike and are out of here. I won't have you distracting the others."

"Yo. Throw me and Belle out if you want, but what the fuck did Emma do?" Elsa almost missed the piercing glare Milah gave Emma. Her brown eyes bore into Emma's. A strange mixture of anger, resentment, and jealousy resonated from her core. Both women sat up straighter as if challenging one another when all of a sudden Emma was overcome with a deep seated sense of anxiety. The realization ran through like an electric shock, sudden and paralyzing. The woman sitting in front of her was, is, Killian's first love. Only love? Who was she to Killian anyway? The abandoned child in her was slowly resurfacing. No one cared about her, no one loved her. She was alone. It was as if the air had been knocked out of her.

"I don't need a reason. I'm doing what I think is best for the group." Milah's eyes never left Emma's as she replied through clenched teeth.

Emma was suffocating under Milah's gaze. Suddenly overcome with a desire to see Killian, she stood quickly. She couldn't stay here anymore.

"Whatever. We're out." Elsa let out a frustrated groan as she knocked back the chair and pulled Emma out the door, Belle following closely behind.

"Don't mind her Emma. She's nuts" Belle laid a comforting hand on the small of Emma's back.

"Yeah…" Her thoughts were once again interrupted as she felt a presence behind her.

"Shouldn't you ladies be somewhere?" Emma shuddered involuntarily. She had heard this voice everyday for years. She had fallen in love with that voice. She had longed for that voice before. She had hated that voice. She had lost that voice.

"Neal?"


	4. Take Me to Neverland

A/N: So, there are definitely some hints of Swanfire in this chapter. Those hints are going to keep popping up throughout the story but I promise it's a CaptainSwan end game.

Trigger: Some really mild sexual harassment

 **Chapter 3: Return to Neverland**

"Cassidy." Elsa's eyes narrowed as she sized up the guard standing in front of her.

The uniform made him look bigger than he actually was, not that Neal had ever been small. He chuckled lightly and Emma's eyes darted unconsciously to his lips. His smile had always been his greatest quality, all teeth and dimples and crinkles by the eyes. Emma had always loved the way his face lit up whenever he was happy. Even in a dismal place like this, Neal's smile didn't fail to send a feeling of warmth through her body, and she couldn't help but think how different her first prison experience would have been had he been there by her side. She shook her head. What a stupid thought. Without him, she wouldn't have been in that situation in the first place.

"Ah, Ms. Arendelle. Aren't you looking just as bright and beautiful as ever." Neal reached up to brush an errant strand of hair away from her face.

"Cut the shit Cassidy. No one thinks that's cute." Elsa snapped as she slapped his hand away with such fierceness that both Emma and Belle thought he'd fall over from the impact.

"A shame since I think all three of you ladies are oh so cute." He replied jovially with a wink. "You know I do like them feisty." His gaze suddenly fixed on Emma. "It makes the breaking in so much more… satisfactory."

Any comfort she had previously felt from Neal's comfort had suddenly been replaced with panic inducing fear. Those eyes that had just been sparkling green pools were clouded by something sinister. The darkness engulfed her and images of her running after foster parents begging them to take her back, standing alone at carpool lines, and sitting alone in a prison infirmary looped through her mind. Once again she found herself reduced to nothing more than a scared, lost, forgotten, and abandoned little girl looking for someone, anyone to take her with them.

"Don't. Fucking. Look. At. Her." Belle's sharp command snapped her back to reality. Emma's eyes darted wildly back and forth until she felt the sharp tug of Elsa's protective grasp. Letting out the breath she didn't even know she had been holding, she sought safety in her friend's embrace.

"You know better than to play this game with me Ms. French. I always have a way to get what I want." He somehow managed to grind out his thinly veiled threat through gritted teeth while managing to maintain the self satisfied grin that he continued to shoot Emma's direction.

"And I'm here for slicing a man's neck with a nail file and then castrating him with eyebrow scissors."

"Is that a threat, Ms. French?"

"Only if you want it to be." The two continued to glare at each other for what seemed like hours before Neal scoffed nonchalantly.

"Whatever. Like I'd want some prison rats. You have 30 seconds to get out of my face before I put you all in solitary."

Emma felt Elsa and Belle pull her down the hall while whispering reassurances before she heard something made her blood run cold.

"But I guess that means you're not interested in breaking that curse then, huh Ems."

She whipped her head back around, but before she could reply he had disappeared around the corner.

"Don't let him get in your head, Emma" At this point Belle and Elsa were dragging her down the hall back to their bunks.

"Belle's right. He's just fucking with you. He's trying to get under your skin and you're letting him."

Curse.

This was a curse and Neal knew how to break it. Someone was here to help her. The unease and uncertainty began to melt away and for the first time since arriving in this new Storybrooke Emma felt hopeful.

The squeak of the felt tip pen was beginning to piss Elsa off. Like, really piss Elsa off. Her fingers danced along the edge of her Walkman where the volume wheel was in an attempt to drown out the infernal noise. When did Emma become such an avid writer anyways?

"Can you like… take that shit to the library or something. You're giving me grey's with all that noise. Since when were you such a budding Virginia Woolf anyway?"

Emma glanced up from her frantic writing to a very exasperated Elsa. The list she was writing was growing longer and longer as her understanding of this curse was getting clearer. Gripping the marker even tighter, she shot a furtive glance over her shoulder, suddenly suspicious of everyone around her. A feminine giggle cut through the tension.

"Elsa, you can stop reminding us that you were an English major. We get it. You were smart. Pretentious bi-atch." Belle snorted as she tossed a paper ball at Elsa from her bunk.

"Look who's talking Ms. 'I've read every book they got in this ignorant hell hole'." Elsa quipped before tossing the ball back at her. "Seriously though Emma, can you take that to the library? Anna is coming for evening visiting hours and I really don't want to be in a shit mood when I scream at her punk ass."

Emma hesitated. She had no idea where the library was. She didn't even know who was safe to talk to.

"Uh… sure… yeah, I'll just go to the library." Damn, when did she become so timid. Determined to shake off the fear that had been holding her hostage since she woke up in this reality, Emma shot up and strut toward the door. Sensing something was off, Belle jumped up to join Emma, but before she could say anything, Emma was already breezing down the hall.

Adrenaline was pumping through Emma's system as she moved quickly through the hall. Signs along the walls pointed to things like "Cafeteria" and "Multifaith Chapel," but for the life of her she couldn't see anything that said "Library." Her head spun, the walls warping around her in a way that made the prison halls resemble a carnival funhouse, which just made her want to find that library faster. She picked up her pace, rounding sharp corners, darting between carts, all the while ignoring the "heys" and "watch where you're goings" before she suddenly felt something solid.

"Knew you'd come to find me sooner or later." Strong arms caught her before the impact sent both her,her papers, and felt makers spilling across the floor. "Baby, you didn't have to run, I would have waited." Even though it ended with a jovial chuckle, there was something about the way he said that that made her stomach turn. It was predatory, territorial, presumptuous. Pushing those negative thoughts aside, she stood up to face him.

"Neal… I was… just on my way to the library." It seems as though running had not only sucked all the air out of her but it also sucked out all of her confidence as well.

"Library? You're not going to figure out how to fix your problems at the library." He cocked his head toward a plain white door. "Nothing in there but classics and used Nora Roberts romances with all the naughty bits already ripped out." There was something unsettling about his unchanging facial expression. It was as if he had the cheshire grin glued to his face with the only thing betraying his inner thoughts were the quick flashes in his eyes.

Somewhere between the initial collision and now he had managed to gather all of her scattered belongings and back her into the wall behind her. Suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic, Emma felt the sweat began to gather in her hands as she clenched them tighter into fists. Something felt… wrong. Her breath was coming in shorter puffs and she wanted to do nothing more than to run as far away from Neal as possible, but she couldn't bring herself to move. A firm hand, applying too much pressure to be accidental, moved up her leg and settled uncomfortably at her hip.

"I really should get to the library." The voice that stuttered those words, too small to be hers, sounded foreign to her. "I… I wanted… Elsa wanted to read something by Virginia Woolf"

"Then go. No one's stopping you." Another heavy hand planted itself on her shoulder to hold her in place. "But you won't be able to stop this curse on your own Ems, and there's nothing Virginia Woolf can do." He chuckled, taking a step back. "I want to help you though." His face softened ever so slightly. "I care about you Ems."

In that moment she caught a glimpse of the old Neal. Searching his eyes, she could see remnants of the man who gave a lost girl her first home, the man who took care of her in a ratty motel room when she had the flu, the little lost boy who cried with her about fears and losses. The comfort he promised was magnetic. The lost girl in her took over, and, against her control, her hand drifted up, cupping his chin.

"Hope I'm not interrupting something, mate." The soft lilt of the British accent was like a bucket of cold water thrown across her face, but even through the shock, she could sense that although the tone was light, there was a hint of a warning in his voice.

"Not at all Dr. Jones. Emma here just dropped all of her things on her way to the library." Papers and pens were unceremoniously thrust into her arms as she felt someone shove her toward the door. "Looking for something Virginia Woolf, right Ems?"

"Ahh, yes. Woolf. Should give To the Lighthouse a try lass. The protagonist quite reminds me of you actually." He threw her a casual wink before taking a few steps closer to her. He was so close now that if she held up her hand, she'd be able to touch him, feel his heartbeat under her fingertips. She watched with bated breath as he bent down to grasp a marker that had somehow escaped Neal's earlier pursuit.

"You missed one, love. Wouldn't want you to be without-" he flipped it around until he found the lettering "Daffodil."

Allowing herself to find magic in his smirk, Emma felt a warmth envelope her. In any realm, universe, or reality, there were things that were distinctively Killian Jones. Be it the formidable Captain Hook or the shy deckhand under Blackbeard, some parts of him never changed. Even now in khaki work pants and a blue button up he smelled like the sea, all salty and fresh and sweet and bright. The walls around her seemed to open allowing her finally to breathe deeply and reclaim the breath that had been previously so elusive.

"I must say, I was actually quite worried about you earlier today. You struggled considerably in session." Without warning, the world around her became sepia toned again, edges blurring, colors dulling. It was like the moment following the rush of magic that comes with a curse shattering true love's kiss, a flash of happiness that dissolves into nothing more than echoing loneliness as the energy and passion fades and you realize that those types kisses were never meant for you in the first place.

"In any case, I'm glad that you're feeling more like yourself," Killian finished before moving back to his place next to Neal. "Wonderful to see you again Mr. Cassidy."

Emma watched helplessly as Killian continued down the hall. He rounded a corner that, according to the signs scattered randomly down the aisle, led back toward the Multifaith Chapel.

Milah.

He was going to see Milah. Killian, Hook, Dr. Jones, whatever he was, whoever he was, loved, no loves, Milah. The seed of doubt that had planted in her brain during group therapy had suddenly bloomed, clouding all rational thought. She heard a sinister voice first whispering then screaming in her ear. "He never loved you." It was as if this place could sense her deepest fears clinging onto them until it was clutching, gnawing, and scratching at all her vulnerable spots.

Her body jerked involuntarily at the hot sensation behind her ear.

"Jeez Ems. Not even in Neverland yet and you're already jumpy." His arm snaked around her again, and like some vile boa constrictor squeezed at her, draining the life from her. "You want to break the curse, right? See your family again? Meet me at our place tonight after light's out. We'll cut through Neverland and feel oh so charming."

He arms unraveled, releasing her, before slithering out of view, which left Emma unquestionably alone once again.


	5. It's Great to be Human Again

**Chapter 4: It's Great to be Human Again**

"Emma? Emma? Emma!" Belle, red hair flying everywhere, sprinted down the E corridor. Where the fuck could she have gotten to?

"Yo, Ruby Red. Red! Have you seen Swan?"

"Nah French Poodle. She's your cellmate, not mine. Have you checked the Oxidizer Room?" Ruby popped her gum a few times before letting out sharp cackle.

"She doesn't fucking do that anymore," Belle snapped back a little sharper than she meant to.

"Alright alright you don't have to bite my head off. I don't know where your friend is Frenchie. Jesus." Normally she made sure that no one fucked with her but even Red knew better than to mess with the only inmate here that had actually managed to successfully kill someone. "Check Jones's office. He's been acting real sketch around her lately."

If Belle heard that last statement, she didn't act like it. Ripped up tennis shoes slapped the linoleum floor as she took off with long and fast strides down the opposite hall. Before Emma, she never really understood the concept of friendship. To put it frankly, she hated women...and men...and everyone really. But in waltzed this strung out junkie who cried and screamed in her bunk every night about curses and pirates and magic and while those ramblings were creepy as shit, there was something hauntingly enchanting about the way she clung to hope, dreams, and beauty. Lean and lithe with shimmering cornflower hair and a poetic type of sickliness, Emma Nolan was perfectly fucked up. Or, at the very least, she was the perfect mixture of fucked up and intellectual that made Belle want to keep hanging out with her.

"Jones!" Even the newly installed metal door was no match against Belle's fury as the titanium groaned under her incessant pounding. "Pretty boy! I know you're in there. Boy, I see the light from your fancy salt lamp. Come on."

No one knew why, but Jones had the best office in the whole damn place. New one way glass windows and fancy intercoms framed a freshly painted sign that read "Leave your fears at the door. Success awaits you inside." If this were the door to a second grade class, it would be kinda cute. Here, it was just irritating.

"Ms. French," Killian, leaning against the door frame, flashed her a quick smile. "How can I be of service to you?" Agh. It was so irritating when hot people were aware of their hotness.

Belle bit back a growl. This arrogance is why she sometimes thinks about starting a prison riot before individual therapy session. Don't have to meet with Dr. Jones if your ass is in solitary.

"Have you seen Emma? Red and a few others said that they saw her with you earlier." Eh, so maybe Red didn't say that, but whatever.

"Ah, yes. Ms. Swan. I do believe she was by the auxiliary library last I saw. Looking for something Virginia Woolf if I remember correctly," he said with a condescending chuckle. "Never pegged her to be such a… feminist," he finished casually.

"Whatever Pretty Boy," Belle quipped with a quick eye roll. People who run places like this always think they're so much smarter than the inmates. There are times she just wants to dig up her Vassar diploma, it has to be stuffed somewhere in her box of possessions down in collections, and shove it right in Jones's community college, Caribbean medical school face. What kind of self respecting psychiatrist makes a living in the shittiest women's penitentiary this side of the Appalachians anyway? She turned on her heels, ready to bound down the hall again before suddenly flipping back around.

"Hey, Doctor Pretty Boy." Killian's eyebrow lifted ever slightly, a small smirk playing on his face. "Word of advice. Get your face out of your own ass. You'll see better."

All the halls and corridors of Storybrooke tend to blend together if one isn't paying attention. Miles and miles of peeling white plaster turned into nothing more than more miles of mildew only to wrap into even more miles of filth stained walls. One wrong turn and you find yourself face to face with a week's worth of dirty jumpsuits or worse, down Cell Block B where Tink, Tiger Lily, and the rest of their rag tag gang of "Lost Boys" run the show. Bunch of freaking lunatics. How did Emma even manage to get all the way to the auxiliary library anyway?

"Ems?" God. This place is a disaster. Belle mentally added "clean up aux lib" o her checklist before gracefully meandering through the broken shelves.

"Oh, no! I know I'm not seeing what I think I'm seeing. You of all people know how I feel about people who write in books." Belle snatched the yellow marker out of Emma's hand before she could do any more damage. "Since when were you into fairy tales?" The book was dusty and the letters have almost faded to nothing, but a cursory glance revealed that it was a very old child's fairy tale book. It was beautiful really. The size of a TV tray with perfectly rolled edges, gold embossed letters, and endearing, sweet childlike illustrations, it was something she would have sold to some yuppie first time parents from the suburbs back in her publishing days.

"The stories in this book are wrong. Like, Snow White wasn't just using Prince Charming for power and prestige. She didn't kill the dwarves. It was true love! This book is abs-"

"Ookkkayyyy…." Belle cut her off before the rant could go on for much longer. It didn't seem like Emma to be so... culturally unaware. Everyone knew these stories. She was suddenly overcome with a sense of foreboding. Could Red have been onto something? "Let's lay off the literature a bit. Elsa just finished up with Anna, which means there are guilt cookies waiting for us back at the bunk. Better yet, I'm pretty sure Elsa will be too pissed to eat of them, so more for us. Kristoff's baking is almost delicious enough to make me feel human again."

Growing up Belle absolutely adored cookies. It was honestly the only memory she had of her mother. She had managed to not receive a single demerit that day in a school. A veritable feat for an antsy five year old with a penchant for eating purple crayons. Her mom baked cookies, even got the fancy Nestle powder to make her milk chocolate. Twenty minutes and half a plate of oatmeal cranberry cookies later, her tummy was full but her heart was empty as her mom and dad fought for the last time. Her toddler brain couldn't really process it all at the time, but she does remember loud pops right before the loud clink of metal hitting the floor.

Twenty years later she had the same exact snack after she drove a sharpened ice pick through the eye of her pimp, "The Beast." Sometimes she's tempted to explain that it was self-defense, that he came at her with his cane first, but then she would have to give up her street cred, and she just wasn't quite ready to do that yet.

She grabbed onto Emma's arm and a stab of panic hit her in the stomach again. It was thin, skeletal, all sinewy tendons, and exposed bones.

"Let's go Ems. I think I remember Elsa mentioning something about double chocolate peanut butter chunk, and you need more meat on your bones. Maybe I'll even stop by commissary and get you some hot chocolate. I'm sure The Wolf Pack can get us some cinnamon."

A shy smile spread slowly on Emma's face.

"Come on you chocolate fiend." Belle giggled as she tucked the book back on the shelf, and pulled Emma out the door. Snow White as Prince Charming's one true love? What nonsense was Emma trying to get at? Never mind that, it's time to get her snack on. So preoccupied with the prospect of fresh baked goods that she didn't notice the crumpled piece of paper hidden in Emma's hand.


End file.
